Jb — Roleplayer Guild

@Andreyich It was a taunt, because they knew that he'd recognise the sound of his own gasmask, no-one put it on though; if you still want to try to bite them then that's fine, I'll just improvise, adapt and overcome.

@Jarl Coolgruuf I was actually going to set this threads status to 'closed' but, if you can send me a good quality Character Sheet, and match it with good quality writing, then I can probably except one more into the mix.

On second consideration, I am actually going to have to say that we're full at this point, I'm afraid; everything's 'balanced' at the moment, and I think throwing another person in would just send it out of wack.

Apologies, but there will be other 40k RPs...I make them all the time. :)

@CaptainBritton

The silence extended for a few moments more, Corby clearly intent on sticking to ingrained conventions of interrogation. His captors were somewhat – though not that – impressed, some usually blurting things out and most commonly spitting threats at them. The man before them was uncommunicative, for the moment.

“You are a Cadian, yes?” The voice spoke once more, as toneless and devoid of emotion as it had been before, “the armour in your chamber tells us as much.”

There was a slight movement of somebody, or something in the darkness, then the sound of clinking.

“These tell me that you were part of the Cadian 117th? Interesting, you must be quite tired of having no home to call your own, Corporal. Tell me, what were you doing aboard this vessel? Who are you working for? I do not want to break you like the Despoiler broke your homeworld...but I will.”

What had been dog-tags were placed back down somewhere, the voice slipping back into silence once more.

@Superboy

Something came from the outer edges of wherever Steiner was held, a queer sound that did not sound like human laughter but was laughter nonetheless; it had a reedy quality to it, flitting through the air like music and slipping into the ears of the middle-aged medic. It lasted for a moment and then cut off abruptly, plunging everything back into stillness.

When the voice spoke again it was right next to Steiner, as if standing right behind him and speaking into both ears at the same time. How was a good question, there had been no footfalls to signal movement, not even the rustle of clothing.

“Hhhhmmm...you think that this is cold? Oh, my dear medic – yes, we have your equipment right here – you seem to think that this posturing and bravado will end well for you? Come now, you have enough brains to stitch someone up, yet not enough to realise how much trouble you are truly in.”

Sergeant Steiner may then have felt, or not felt, a slight pin-prick in his upper arm – the effects of the injected solution evident almost immediately. It would start with a slow coolness building up around the bicep in his right arm, the coolness getting ever colder as it spread throughout the veins within his arms musculature, becoming colder and colder...and colder. His arm would not go numb though, as was natural, oh no, the intense chill would be ever-present and ever-evident within his arms bloodstream, as if the chill of space had been diluted and injected straight into him.

“There is more where that came from, medic. Do not make me do it again; I want your name, rank and unit, and I want to know why you are here. The pain will only get worse.”

@Andreyich

“Where is my equipment?!” The voice that spoke back to him was a perfect imitation of his own, down to the almost emotionless inflections, yet with an added whinging inflection not present in the original question.

Slight movement was followed by the sound of a strap slapping against the main article, nothing more than the gas-mask taken from Draeta after his capture and subsequent unconsciousness.

“You are a man of Krieg,  this we know, do conventional interrogation will not work on you, will it? No.”

Obvious footfalls bought the speaker and voice to within an arms length, every syllable spoken in over-perfect Gothic, unseen eyes boring into the Krieger from beyond the veil of the hood.

“Listen closely. If you do not tell me your designation, your unit and why you are here on this ship, I will not torture you – torture would be redundant on one of your kind – I will imprison you. I will imprison you for as long as your life holds out, for as long as it takes for you to meet a slow and miserable end bought about by the ageing of your body. You think that your Emperor would want that? Do you really think that he would accept your sacrifice outside of martyrdom in battle?”

The footsteps moved away from him, back into the shadows of the completely black room, “answer the questions.” Stated the voice flatly, before plunging back into quiet.

@AdvancedJ3lly

“Corporal Inessa Laen,” repeated the voice back to her, rolling it around the mouth as one might swish a fine vintage wine, tasting it in every word, “well Corporal, I need answers to my questions, and if you cannot provide them then what use are you to me?”

Somewhere in the darkness the sound of a humming began to take place, a humming that would be all too familiar to Inessa, the humming of a las-pack being placed in a weapon and beginning to charge to a state that would burn a hole straight through her if fired.

“I do not want to hurt you, Inessa. In fact I would like to free you, truly, but I need the information that you have...so you can see my predicament.”

Another sound would reach her now, that of a barrel tapping on something which sounded most likely like a metallic table top.

After a few minutes of silence, every sound fading away, the faceless voice started speaking once more.

“What regiment were you with, Corporal? Where were you deployed? Why are you on this ship? Who bought you here? I want answers, soldier.”

The questions came at a swift pace, one after another, the tapping of a barrel beginning again.

@Poi

“You will crack, Private First Class. Not that I need you to, you have already given me everything I needed to know – and if you hadn't, well, others have already talked.”

The hood was swiftly removed from her head, removed to reveal...nothing; the room (if it was a room) which she was being held in was as pitch black as the void. Not a single dot of light shone from anywhere, nothing could be seen, even the rest of her body was invisible to her own eyes in the darkness.

“They broke...yes they did,” the voice seemed to sneer, drifting from the blackness like a serpent, “what are you doing aboard this ship? Who owns this ship? Tell me and perhaps the others might go free. Refuse, and the blood of comrades will be on your hands.”

@Dogematix

“Please stop struggling, you might hurt yourself.” There was definite amusement in the voice as it spoke, the bag removed from the Jungle Fighters head to reveal as much as it had to Nyree – nothing but the dark.

“There can be no doubting that you are one of the infamous Catachan fighters,” stated the voice, “more stupid and full of rage than anything else. I must say that your array of close-quarter weapons are impressive though, very impressive.”

Silence followed swiftly, before a singular light appeared in the darkness, a red object – looking exactly like the red bandanna that wrapped about every Jungle Fighters head – held above the flame and then enveloped by it. Quickly it was thrown to the floor, the object burning before the eyes of its owner, a singular light in the enveloping black.

“Name, rank, regiment and what you are doing aboard this ship, please. There will be no shoving of bag nor meetings with mothers, but suffering will be the fate of your fellow prisoners, believe me when I tell you that.”

Something rustled in the dark, the voice speaking with a tone that showed the speaker most certainly was smiling.

A sigh proceeded the next vocalisations, but these were ones that may make the large man pay attention.

“I have here a juvenile specimen of what your people call a 'Brainleaf', a rather queer name but not altogether incorrect. I have heard that they control your body, yes? This is something I would like to see, so please, keep refusing to talk and let me find out exactly how it works.”

There did not seem to be any guile in the threat, only a seriousness coolness of an emotionless individual, but were they bluffing? And if they were not...?

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